


Grave

by ToastyDehmer



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Pining, Pre-The Golden Circle, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyDehmer/pseuds/ToastyDehmer
Summary: (Set during the Lancelot trials in Kingsman: The Secret Service)A test turns out differently than most imagine but "Harry really should have seen it coming-"





	Grave

Harry really should have seen it coming but for some reason it slipped his mind that the young man he brought into the trials was the son of Lee Unwin and had just as much humanity as his father. Eggsy ( _ “Odd name.” _ ) Unwin was just as bright as Lee, just as quick to the chase as Lee, just as magnificent. It brought an acidic sneer to Chester’s lips, a curious raise to Percival’s brow. Even Merlin admitted the boy had some merit. Harry had known it from that moment in the bar. Instead of letting Harry ‘take’ the fall, Eggsy had instead tried to keep -what he perceived to be- an innocent men out of the fray ( _ “He ain’t joking - you should go.”) _ . It didn’t matter how much the boy disliked him or what he believed Harry stood for. He still did the right thing.

It was a breath of fresh air to see something so exquisite. The world has become jaded. Staring into the side of a crystal tumbler of scotch, he has to admit so has he. It comes with the job. Briefly he wonders if Lee would’ve become something of the same. Some sort of warped reflection of how he had started out. So far down the rabbit hole of memories and liquor he is, Harry can’t stop the bodily flinch that thought brings. His eyes close against his will and his free hand holds his forehead.

These nights are the ones he hates the most, when he can’t escape a grief he thought was finally over. A mistake he had outgrown. A failure of his own lack of action. Lack of thought. Lack of common sense. It’s an old wound he tears open again and again almost compulsively in nature. At least once a year, thrice at most. More often than not, it’s one the day the promising man died and the day he left a mother and her child without a lover, without a father. On the odd occasion, something else triggers his rare bout of self-hate.

He knew the test, what it was, what it was meant to gauge in all the candidates. Eggsy being Lee’s son, Harry should have foreseen how it would end.

‘ _ I am….surprised your  _ boy _ has made it this far.’ _ Harry remembers the condescending tone Chester had taken. The disdainful look and odious eyes. He had looked upon Eggsy from among the preparing candidates with nothing but scorn. Harry expected that and from the minute eyeroll Eggsy had hid from Chester’s line of sight, it seemed the boy knew it as well.

“He is quite the studious young man.” Harry whispers the same words he had spoken with conviction early in the afternoon. He takes a sip from his glass and stares at the amber liquid, not seeing it for what it is. His eyes view the memory. His own personal torture.

‘ _ He’s a bloody chav.’ _ Chester never did look any better than his usual putrid self with any sort of snarl. Intimidating was the furthest thing Harry could think of when Chester had turned towards the line up of weapons and ammunition. His boss had walked up to the table and half turned to face Harry.  _ ‘It takes honor to be a Kingsman. Do you think he’s going to risk life and limb for queen and country?’ _

And then the test began.

A dummy grenade - the single one among them all - was carelessly thrown right in the middle of the scattering of candidates.

It was mostly a test to see how every single one of them reacted. If they behaved poorly in accordance with Kingsman’s policies and belief, the candidate would dismissed. In simple terms, there was -again- no right or wrong answer. There were many.

Someone could scream and pathetically scramble away, like Hector’s candidate.

Some could simply choose to run and pray their swiftness allowed them to get outside the blast radius, such as the majority of the candidates.

Or through some foolish scheme, some could run towards it.

It hadn’t vexed him. Harry had done much the same when it came to his trials. Instead of fleeing the scene, Harry had gone for the dummy and hurled it as hard as his arm would allow. There were two other like him then but Harry had been the closest. He saw much the same and believed it would turn out as his own group. Eggsy had been closer to where the dummy landed than Roxy but both still made for the fake. Eggsy would grab the grenade and unknowingly follow the footsteps of his mentor.

‘ _ Get back!’ _

Except it seemed Harry wasn’t the boy’s mentor in this situation.

His old heart stopped beating when he saw Eggsy push off the ground. Time froze, suspended in action as he quickly analyzed the scene. Harry had noticed Roxy’s features begin to slip from determined to horrified. Peripheral vision showed Charlie smirking, Chester grimacing, Merlin stunned.

Harry should have seen it coming but he hadn’t and when Eggsy landed on the dummy, curled over it like he had probably been taught in his marines training, Harry’s chest nearly broke in half. It pained him, seeing this exact vision. The setting was different and so was the protagonist but the performance was all the same. For the half second before time righted itself, Harry’s own memory butted it’s way through his defenses and mixed with what he saw. It was Syria all over again but instead of Lee, it was Eggsy who was jumping to the defense, Eggsy who would never smile again, Eggsy, Eggsy, Eggsy-

The only explosion that sounded off was the singular muted pop in Harry’s own head.

A hush fell over the field. After a few fragile moments of silence, Eggsy slowly sat up. The young man -Harry’s gorgeous boy- kept his eyes on the dummy three seconds longer before hesitating to look over at Chester and Harry. He didn’t move from the bomb. Harry noticed just how carefully Eggsy was keeping himself in line with the dummy in the case it was a dud ready to blow or something somehow made with a longer fuse thanks to Kingsman’s technology.

Harry’s palms were sweaty, skin clammy, face pastry-white. His fists were tight - one at his side, the other in his pocket. He stood there, back rigid, jaw clenched, face tight.

‘ _ Was this another test? _ ’

He had been an agent for so long and yet he hadn’t known whether to cry, choke up, or laugh at how suspicious Eggsy sounded, stuck between caution and fiery derision. Harry did none of those things. Instead, he had smiled despite knowing how hollow it would look.

‘ _ He’s still a chav.’ _ Chester had spat them out before leaving, heading towards headquarters and up the stone staircase. Harry barely took note of that, not when he was thrown out of his own mental deluge by Merlin calling the candidates together. And- oh god. Merlin.

It had hit Harry then that he wouldn’t have been the only to see the revenant Eggsy brought forth from memory alone. He could see how shaken this test had left Merlin, how much more stress had just been piled onto his shoulders. Harry often felt Merlin carried the world on his back alone - like Atlas. He had wondered if tonight would be another one of those few nights they both held the burden.

Now he’s glad it hadn’t been because there is nothing better to force a person to see something than the world threatening to take it away -  even if only through imagery.

Harry had been set to go home, to nurse a drink, and to try and bury the memory once again, this time with the vain hope his personal hatchet would finally leave him be once and for all time. Merlin had dealt with the candidates and Harry wasn’t willing to stay and listen when his heart and mind wanted nothing more than to burn beneath the drowning onslaught of alcohol. But then Eggsy was right there next to him, silently walking along. Harry couldn’t bear to look. If he did-

The scar had only just begun to be torn open. Looking would rip it apart, render mottled flesh apart.

‘ _ I...I did good, yeah?’ _ Dear God Almighty, how timid his precious boy had sounded, how unsure and tentative.

“You did good.” His voice then had been tight with too many emotions. They tried clogging his throat but he viciously beat them back into the recesses of his gut. It hadn’t been enough.

‘ _ Then why you angry?’ _ Eggsy sounded put out and Harry -the absolute fool he is- glanced at Eggsy from the corner of his eyes. Those beautiful sea colored eyes focused on the ground, blonde brows pinched together in frustration and confusion. Hands in the pockets of his uniform ( _ “These things are  _ ugly _ , Haz.” “Please refrain from calling me that,  _ Gary. _ ” _ ) Eggsy looked….young. Younger than he really was. The suit was unflattering but Eggsy’s face alone kept him looking boyish no matter how many hardships he had seen through.

“It’s through no fault of your’s, my dear boy.” He would happily let Eggsy think he was mad. Better than the mess he had felt inside his chest. The crushing agony. And Eggsy - Harry’s gorgeous Eggsy looked relieved, shoulders falling from their tense position, features relaxing, relieved smile tilting his lips. He didn’t say anything for a time and they made their way up the steps and inside the base without a single word more. The doors gently clicked closed behind. There’s no one else out and about. Arthur had most likely gone back to the tailor shop. Housekeeping was only there during a set time and on set days. The candidates ‘teachers’ came and went as needed - none stayed there like the candidates do.

They were alone.

‘ _ If you want and- and you’re allowed to an’ all…’ _ And he fears Eggsy acutely knows this. He scratches the back of his neck as he nervously speaks, looking away from Harry as if embarrassed.  _ ‘I guess what I’m saying is, I can make for a good sounding board, Harry.’ _

Harry stopped a few steps after and Eggsy was quick to stay by his side. Always quick. Always bright. Always smart. He pushed the thoughts away and faced Eggsy, looked down with every intention of saying ‘Sorry, Eggsy. It’s confidential.’ Until he saw how hopeful Eggsy looked. Open and honest and wearing his heart on his sleeve and it broke a wall in Harry.

He isn’t naive any longer. Refuses to blind himself. Harry knows exactly why he caved then, why he bent as much as Kingsman ‘laws’ would allow him to for Eggsy. For those stunning tropical sea colored eyes. That charming little grin. That helpless tilt of his head. So delightful. Eggsy cared about the life of every human no matter how they wronged him. Somehow, Harry knew the final test would be what broke this brilliant, brilliant boy.

Harry raised his hand and at first, found himself appalled that he first went to cup Eggsy’s cheek. He wasn’t appalled it was there in the first place. It was how close he came to doing it. And damn Harry’s soul he swore Eggsy looked eager, swore he saw him begin to tilt his head ever so slightly towards Harry’s open palm. He allowed himself the feel a spark of thrill, a shred of satisfaction before coldly shutting it all down.

Even if what he saw had been true, he knew then it could not be anytime soon.

‘After,’ Harry remembers assuring himself. ‘After the trials.’

His hand landed on Eggsy’s shoulder and again he had sworn he saw- it didn’t matter. Not now. Not now. Not. Now.

Harry had mustered up every piece of reassurance he could and threw all his might into crafting a convincing smile. One gentle and kind and grateful but alright. It brought a starry-eyed look to Eggsy. Like Harry was something to behold and gaze upon with awestruck wonder. Any other situation he would have found it flattering.

“After you win Lancelot,” Harry whispers, finishing the glass in one ungracious swallow. The memory fades as the familiar burn of alcohol lights up his throat again. He knew Eggsy wouldn’t win - not after a display like that. Eggsy would more quickly jump in front of danger for anyone than let them take the fall. He should’ve realized that the moment he left The Black Prince. But even now he dares to hope against the logic he knows is right and true. Knows in the end it will only hurt him more than it does now.

He sets another contemplative look onto the now empty glass and spies the wall clock past it.

Half past midnight.

He stands up from the armchair and sets the glass on the coffee table. Just another memory to bury.

An image of Eggsy’s face, pale from death and set into a coffin tears it’s way into his head.

Just another memory to bury.

The coffin lowers.

_ Just another memory to bury. _

His heart burns as he watches dirt tossed into the hole, eyes blinded by tears, hope lost, love dea-

_ Just another mem- _

His hand strikes out, snatches the tumbler, and throws it against the wall with a horrible, broken cry. Crystal shatters, old from age. He can’t watch the glass shards sprinkle the carpet. His shoulders heave as he takes in lungful after lungful of air, fists tight at his sides, arms out, body tense for a fight that will never come.

It doesn’t matter which way it goes, if Eggsy fails or somehow succeeds. Harry has once again failed. Either the boy will be condemned back to his old life or he’ll be condemned to an early grave. It takes the fight out of him as the weight of this world forces his knees to bend and he wonders how Merlin ever bares it so effortlessly. Harry falls back into the armchair and leans forward, clapping a hand over his mouth as a sob threatens to shake his frame. He slips off the glasses and lightly tosses them onto the table.

Just another memory to bury.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired completely by Owldelanoche on Tumblr. I hope if they ever read this they are happy because this made me cry as I wrote it.
> 
> https://random-hogwash.tumblr.com/post/175846786801/kingsmanhartwin-owldelanoche-ok-but-imagine


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